Five Lives the Sky Pirate Balthier Never Lived
by TangledAria
Summary: AU. Five different stories about the lives Balthier could have lived.
1. anathema

Five Lives the Sky Pirate Balthier Never Lived

**Five Lives the Sky Pirate Balthier Never Lived**  
AU. Five different alternate universe stories.

_i. anathema_

He falls on his back, blinded by a Flare spell. It takes forever to fall. The time seems to pass so slowly and his breath is a ragged exhale, like dying. The tail end of another spell passes over him, leaving a trail of stars in its wake.

It is the most beautiful thing Cid has ever seen.

He turns to his side, dazed. His old bones ache. Maybe this is it, he thinks, maybe his story is coming to an end.

The world is starting to come back into focus; the aftereffect of the Flare spell is starting to fade. It is all a curious jumble of colors and lights. There are footsteps behind him, the heavy footsteps of a Judge.

"You aren't supposed to be here, old man." His son's voice. His heart misses a beat at the sound. It has been years since he has heard it.

"Ffamran," he says.

His son laughs.

Vaan is screaming his name from across the temple. He pushes himself to his feet, hand sliding over the slick marble floor. He gives the lad a weak smile. The boy is standing hesitantly at the side, distracted from helping Basch fight off, of all things, a Viera. "I'm alright, Vaan," he calls.

"I believe I told you that I would kill you if I ever saw you again," his son says.

Ashe gasps behind him. Her hand is frozen between them in the process of giving him a hi-potion. "He's your father," she whispers.

"Then you should be blaming him for helping to give birth to all this."

She is angry, a switch flipped. It is a righteous anger Cid has come to expect from her. "I would give anything for my father to still be alive."

"You should be blaming him, too," Ffamran says patiently, as if she is particularly slow. "For bringing you into this. For bringing us all here. I am merely trying to set it all right, trying to free us from this tyranny. If I had never been born, or if you had never been born, then none of us would be here." It is the talk of a madman, and then his son turns, looking over his shoulder as if someone is there. It is an unnervingly familiar gesture, one Cid remembers only too well. "But enough of this," he says. He calls down a spell that sends Cid flying across the room and he only knows what it is by the sapping of life afterwards. Scourge. All these black, dark spells.

Mad laughter and then gravity pushes him into the floor. When he pushes himself up, it is only he and the Dalmascan princess still standing. The others have been thrown like ragdolls across the room and he hopes they are only unconscious and not dead.

What a dreadful monster he has sired.

There had been a chasm growing between them ever since Giruvagen. His son had come back from that place changed, with an unholy fire in his eyes.

Another Flare spell sends him to the ground again and he doesn't think he will get up from this one. The Viera's footsteps pass near him and he waits for the deathblow, but she isn't looking at him. She is watching his son with the eternal calm that all Viera possess. He knows then that the others must be dead for her to drop her bow arm and turn her back on them. He exhales and hears the gurgle of blood from somewhere deep down. He doesn't have much time.

He opens his hands and casts the last spell he can cast. The strongest spell he has left. It starts small, a little white light that grows and grows in his hands until it is too large for him to hold. He wraps his arms around it and pulls it close to his chest. The heat of it warms his flesh, burns his skin.

_Holy_.

He rolls over to his knees, cradling the white-hot light in his arms. His son is laughing, taunting the Dalmascan princess.

It will be the last thing Cid ever does, the best thing he ever does.

He whispers the word that sets it free and it races across the room to its target. It pours down from the sky, that white-hot light that gave hope and burned darkness away. It surrounds his son, envelopes him in its unforgiving arms.

His son screams and it is the most terrible sound he has ever heard. It brings tears to his eyes, for no father should ever have to hear that sound, let alone be the cause of it.

The light becomes too bright and he throws an arm over his face to shield his eyes. Under the curve of his elbow he can see Ashe staring, transfixed at the sight. "Run, you stupid girl," he whispers. She cannot possibly hear him, but she still turns and runs in the opposite direction, her footsteps echoing down the marble staircase.

He sighs a breath he forgot he'd been holding and turns away from the sight of his only son collapsing to his knees and falling forward onto the floor, dead. The Viera sidesteps him, face still schooled in eternal calm. When he turns back and opens his eyes, she has Ffamran's head cradled in her lap. She runs the backs of her fingers over his cheek and bends her head over his. She whispers something he cannot hear, words that carry the notes of a sad song. Her long white hair spills over her shoulders but does not obscure the kiss she places on his lips.

It is an intimate moment Cid should not be witnessing. He turns over and tries not to cry at the sight of young Penelo's blank stare. He does not feel the cold that begins to steal his breath from him. He does not hear the footsteps that come up behind him.

The Viera buries a dagger in his back, eyes flat and cold. He turns to her, red starbursts of pain clouding his vision. "What a family we would have made," he says with a smile.


	2. the future king

Five Lives the Sky Pirate Balthier Never Lived

**Five Lives the Sky Pirate Balthier Never Lived**  
AU. Five different alternate universe stories.

_ii. the future king_

"You know," Ashe says upon entering the cockpit and finding him in the pilot's seat, "Contrary to popular belief, this is still my ship."

"I need it," Balthier says simply, not turning to face her, and if she didn't have a remote activation switch she might be alarmed at the way his hands are moving so competently over the controls.

"And yet, you cannot have it."

"You don't understand," he says.

"Oh, but I do. And now I'm handing you over to the Marquis."

Basch comes in behind her, boots ringing on the deckplates, and what kind of knight would he be if he didn't accompany his prince everywhere? "What is going on here?" he asks.

"Say you took me captive, then," Balthier says suddenly. "It would not be something out of the realm of possibility. You might command a high bounty but I can guarantee mine is higher."

"I'm afraid you're overestimating our abilities, my lord. Skilled as we are, your uncle won't believe that we were able to overpower a disgraced Knight and the lost Dalmascan prince all on our own."

"I think you underestimate yourselves. Two sky pirates of your caliber are anything but harmless girls."

She gives him her best smirk, a flirting spark entering her eyes.

"Your Highness," Basch begins, placing a hand on Balthier's arm. "Do you think this the best-"

"What say you," Balthier says. He frowns when she doesn't answer him. He crosses his arms over his chest. He will not say 'please'. When it dawns on him what she is really after, it infuriates him all the more.

"Treasure," he says. "That is what you sky pirates long for, right?"

"My Lord," Basch begins again. "I told you before-"

"Enough," he cuts off. He stares into her eyes, and his are as angry as hers are amused. "There are more treasures in King Raithwall's tomb than just the Dawn Shard. Take me there and feel free to loot and plunder at will."

"Ah," she says. "At the promise of riches and treasure, I am more than willing to assist you in your noble venture."

"We shall be thieves together," Fran says from behind her, and she smiles at the look of indignation that transforms his face.


	3. being to all intents

**Five Lives the Sky Pirate Balthier Never Lived**  
AU. Five different alternate universe stories.

_iii. being to all intents_

"Are you Cherin?" Vaan asks the Hume standing next to a makeshift cart at the entrance to Mt. Bur-Omisace. The man nods and Vaan thrusts the hunt bill in front of his face. "We've come to hunt your monster."

The man smiles, brighter than the glare of sunshine on snow. "I was beginning to think no one would."

"The bill says you will pay 200,000 gil," Basch says.

"Yes," the man says, dusting his hands against one another. He sets down the knife he had been sharpening. "I can pay you 1,000 up front for supplies, but the rest won't be yours until you bring me proof."

"Fair enough to us," Vaan says with a shrug. Ashe still does not know what to make of him. At times he seems a mere child, gasping in wonder at the sight of snow or shouting at a rabbit, and then other times he seems so old and cynical, as if nothing in the world will ever bring him joy again. But the truth is, they are starving and 1,000 gil will buy them food and a warm place to sleep.

"You would probably like to know more about the hunt, yes?"

Penelo is shivering next to her, but Ashe manages to keep her voice from shaking when she says, "Any information you can give us would be helpful."

The man lifts a sword in the air and examines its edge. "As you can see, I am a weapons maker. I am, if I may say so, quite good at it. But selling weapons to pilgrims and the occasional traveler is not a profitable livelihood." He smiles at them amicably. "I wish to open a trade route from here down to Jahara. It is a dangerous route, of course, dangerous but manageable. All except for one place. Golmore Jungle. Any man who steps there is never heard from again." He laughs at the pinched look on Vaan's face. "I see that a brave lad such as yourself is suspicious. Perhaps you have not heard the rumors." He leans in close. "They say a ghost haunts Golmore Jungle." Ashe shares a look with Basch.

"I have been to Golmore Jungle many times," Basch says. "And I have passed through it unscathed."

"I see you are older than your companions, good sir," the man says. "Three years ago, the Archadian Army marched through Golmore on its way to Giruvegan. It seems they found something of interest there many years ago and wished to make their path there a bit more permanent. The Viera lived there, deep in the Wood. Naturally, they took exception to the plundering of their home and the Archadians killed every last one of them." He leans back and continues sharpening his dagger. "It has been haunted ever since. Some say by the souls of the Viera, others say it is the jungle itself fighting to rid itself of Archadian influence. Whatever the reason, I have seen five hunters before you come and go with none of them completing the hunt."

"Five?" Vaan asks incredulously, bouncing back to wide-eyed youth again.

"Five," the man says. "And the last one a heartless Bangaa I thought would be impossible to kill." He turns to them all in turn. "Well?" he asks. "Still interested?"

"If it isn't haunted," Ashe says, and Penelo is huddling against her back now. "If there is no monster to be killed, but rather some non-supernatural cause that can be remedied, will we still be paid?"

"Of course," the man says. "I simply wish to open Golmore to travelers again. So that they, and I, may pass through unscathed. Or at least not permanently maimed." He smiles again.

"Then we will gladly take on your hunt," she says.

"Excellent," he says. "Allow me to give you some complementary potions and remedies to help you on your journey."

The next morning they make their way back south through the Paramina Rift and over into the Golmore Jungle. There are only the usual panthers and coeurls and the occasional Hellhound, but nothing they cannot handle. They hit a quiet glade around midday and sit under the calming orange light of a teleport crystal.

"It's good to know that we can always get out of here if we have to," Penelo says brightly, her mood improving with the warmer weather and the fresh food.

"Yeah," Vaan says. "But then why didn't any of the other hunters backtrack here and escape?"

There is only silence after that.

They make their way down a wandering, sunlit path and then they hit a dark, oppressive section of forest, hot and close with barely any wind to stir the sir.

Penelo starts to fan herself with one hand. "Why is the weather down here so extreme?"

Basch pulls up suddenly and they all stop in their tracks. He cocks his head to the side, listening for something.

"What is it?" Ashe whispers. Out of the corner of her eye, Vaan is fingering the hilt of his sword.

Basch turns and meets her eyes. She opens her mouth to ask him what he hears and then she can hear it, too. The steady creaking of the trees, even though there is no wind.

They turn the corner and lift their eyes to a low-hanging tree limb where a man with bright eyes sits, idly swinging his legs.

"Come about the Hunt, have you?" he asks, and her stomach sinks.

"Yeah!" Vaan says. "Do you know anything about it?"

The man laughs, the leaves of the tree limb rattling with the movement, and Basch moves in front of her.

"What?" Penelo says angrily, fists clenched at her sides. "What's so funny?"

"You," Ashe says. "You are the Hunt."

He puts his hand over his heart and bows his head. "My Lady, you are as wise as you are beautiful."

Vaan is a blur moving past her before she can stop him, swinging Excalibur one-handed with a flourish. Basch follows him automatically, more for Vaan's sake, she thinks, than anything else.

The man jumps down from his perch to meet them and, faster than her eyes can follow, Vaan is flying backwards into the trees behind them. Penelo gasps and brings her hands to her mouth. A groan behind her tells her Vaan is merely hurt and not dead.

Now that he has come down from his perch, Ashe can study him more closely. He is dressed impeccably, in clothes that wouldn't be out of place on the main thoroughfare of Archades. He is paler than she is, though that may be from the canopy of trees that covers Golmore Jungle. His hair is brown peppered with blond, and she has never seen the amber color of his eyes in another person. She thinks he might be handsome if he wasn't trying to kill them all.

"You have made quite a home for yourself here," she says diplomatically.

"Yes. A home for two. Quite lovely, don't you think? What with the trees and the monsters and all the dead things."

"I didn't mean it like-"

"I know what you meant, my Lady," he says. "You are making small talk, stalling. Trying to delay the inevitable." His eyes go flat and dark, the only warning she has.

She's in the process of bringing her staff up when fire races across the ground in a red hot zigzag, burning over dirt and leaves before it licks at her feet. Penelo casts Reflect soon after and Basch races in front of her, sword lifted high overhead.

They continue on for some time, spells flying and weapons swinging. A bead of sweat makes its way down the back of her neck, an annoyance at the back of her mind that begins to distract her. It is a lucky blow that Penelo gets in, a thrust of her spear from her hiding place behind Basch, slipping the steel tip of her spear beneath his arm and into the man's side. Ashe halts her forward advance automatically. She waits for the spread of blood that will soak the man's immaculate clothes, the gurgling death rattle of a man with a pierced lung. But there is no blood, no bubbling gasp for air. Instead, the man straightens up, trapping the spear against his side and pulling Penelo forward, knocking her off balance and into Basch's back, sending them both sprawling.

"You're not dead," Ashe says.

The man pulls the spear from his side with a wet sucking sound and throws it off into the trees. "A talent for stating the obvious. Oh, my Lady, is there no end to your charms?"

She bites her tongue on 'Why aren't you dead?' but then Vaan says it for her.

"You have discovered one of my well-guarded secrets. You should all be quite proud. You four are the only ones to have done so. I have been dead for quite some time now."

"Dead," she says in horror.

Vaan pulls out a Phoenix Down and the man laughs. "Such ingenuity, my young friend, but it will not work."

Vaan throws it anyway. The vial crashes at the other man's feet and does nothing.

"Happy?" He turns to look over his shoulder, his attention called away by something. "Oh, very well," he says. He moves to the side, and the air next to him ripples, like the shimmer of the sun on the ocean's surface. In the time it takes her to blink, the ghostly outlines of a tall Viera form.

Vaan charges forward, a headlong rush, sword pulled back and aiming for the Viera. The man puts his face in his hand and sighs. Vaan's sword glows briefly, piercing the wavering pale outline of the Viera before continuing on, putting up no resistance as Vaan follows, plunging into the thick brush behind.

"As you can see," the man says. "There is no chance for victory here, my friends. A hopeless cause, to attempt to kill a ghost and, well, whatever I am." He takes on a pensive air. "Not a ghost. What would you call it Fran? Undead? No, that sounds too ominous."

Basch takes advantage of the man's momentary distraction to cast a glance in her direction. "We cannot win this fight, majesty," he says in a low voice. "Take Penelo and Vaan and leave. I'll keep them distracted."

"I'm not leaving you!" she hisses.

She looks over at the man and the Viera. The man is looking down at his feet incredulously. "As if they're just going to rot off right here," he scoffs.

"I _won't_ leave you," Ashe says. "There has to be another way out of this. We'll run."

"Majesty," he says with a smile and she feels a flush of anger. He won't patronize her, as if she is still a child! "I failed in my duty to Lord Rasler. Don't let me fail Dalmasca again."

"Basch," she says, swallowing past the lump in her throat. The silence that follows is far too quiet.

The man clears his throat loudly. "My esteemed colleague brings to my attention that you are all chattering together in such a way that surely means you are planning escape," he says. Ashe turns, slowly, cautiously, to face him and the Viera has manifested herself enough now that the wavering outlines of her body are solid. "We have guarded this forest for the past three years," he says. "We will not stop now, even if you are children."

"Children?!" Vaan shouts, and if they weren't almost dead already, she would threaten to cut his tongue out.

"Yes," Basch agrees, louder than Vaan's protestations. "They are children. Only a handful of years old and wanting to see the world and find adventure. They are innocent and do not deserve to die," he says. "I will stay. I have lived far too long already, when I should have been dead many times over."

The man does not answer, distracted again by the Viera at his side. Ashe can see her lips moving now, but cannot hear her voice. The man looks at Ashe, his gaze like a beam focusing on her. "What is your name?"

She isn't expecting that question and almost gives him her real name out of pure surprise. "Amalia," she says.

He laughs. "A liar as pretty as yourself is still a liar."

"It's the truth."

"Your," he pauses and the edge of his smile quirks up, "_aged_ companion is far too chivalrous. He defers to you."

"He protects us," she says. "He is considerate, and a gentleman."

"Yes," Penelo says. "He has been our guide for weeks now. We paid him in advance to take us around Ivalice."

"Yeah," Vaan says. "He didn't have to. But he's saved us a whole bunch of times. We went to places we shouldn't have." Ashe feels her heart start to sink and she tries to will Penelo to put her hand over Vaan's mouth and stop the words that she knows are coming. "We could have all been killed if they knew who he was. Ow!" he shouts when Penelo drives one booted foot into his shin.

"Well, now," the man says. He folds his arms across his chest, exposing the open wound in his side that does not bleed. "And who is this mysterious guide that has saved you thousands of times over? Not an Archadian." He taps the fingers of one hand against his upper arm. A half dozen rings sparkle in the meager sunlight. "Not nearly selfish enough to be Rozarian." He turns to his companion. "Why, Fran, I do believe we have a sudden infestation of Dalmascans."

Ashe can hear the Viera's voice then, just barely, a faint whisper almost lost on the wind. She is ashamed to say that though she is familiar with Viera, she has never really heard one of them speak.

"A cloud of foul Mist follows them," she says in a lilting cadence.

"Mist?" Ashe asks.

"Nethicite," the man clarifies. "That thing which twists men's hearts and poisons their souls. Tell me, _Amalia_," he says mockingly. "Where did you come across yours?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Do you think her a liar?" he asks with a sudden anger. "That she spins tales as freely as you do?"

"I-"

"Leave her alone!" Vaan shouts. "If she says she doesn't know, then she doesn't know!"

"No more lies," she says firmly. "I promise you."

The man's anger evaporates, replaced by his quirky smile.

"We are indeed Dalmascan," she says. "I am Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca." She turns and lifts one hand to gesture to the others. "These are my companions, Basch fon Rosenberg, Vaan, and Penelo."

The man is genuinely surprised at her words. "The widowed princess and the King killer."

"So, you see," she says. "You are not alone. We are also dead and still walk this world." She pauses, waiting for him to speak. When he does not, she takes her chance. "It was the Archadian Army that did this to you, yes? We are trying to stop them." He still does not answer. "You could come with us, if you like," she says, not turning away from him even as Vaan's gasp steals everyone else's attention.

His amber eyes are flat and hard, anger and hate and bone-deep agony staring out at her. She tightens her hands around the wooden shaft of her weapon. If he comes at her again, with no one to help her, she thinks she will only last for a handful of moments against his rage. But she does not flinch, does not pull back. The man clenches his jaw and Ashe understands then. The rage and hate is not directed at her. Before he turns away, a terrible sorrow bleeds into his eyes and she finds herself casting her gaze away from him, trying to spare him her pity.

"We cannot leave," he says, returning to his place in front of the low-hanging branch where they had first discovered him. "We swore an oath to the Wood." The Viera puts one pale hand on his shoulder. "It binds us here and forces us to guard its borders so that we might have but a taste of the revenge we are owed."

"Then, please, let us leave," she says, and it has been many months indeed since she has said please to anyone.

"Well, Fran," he says, tilting his head towards the Viera. "What do you think?"

"Our revenge twists through many paths," she says. "The Wood calls for blood."

"There you have it," he says. "Start stacking corpses at the entrance to the jungle. Fine Archadian sons left to rot." He waves a hand. "Get out of here."

"Thank you," she says.

"We will see that this never happens again," Basch says, and she had almost forgotten his presence next to her.

Vaan can't move fast enough, scrambling up and slipping on the moss covered wood. Penelo crouches down and pulls him up by one arm.

Basch waits for Ashe to pass by him. They are almost around the next bend when the man's voice calls after her and she freezes.

"Tell me," he says. "Does Dr. Cid still live?"

"Of Draklor Laboratory?"

"The very same."

"Yes," she says, turning back to face him. "Why?"

The man's lips quirk up in a strange smile. "When you see him," he says, "tell him his son sends his regards." He turns and holds out his arm for the Viera to hook her hand through and place on his forearm. They walk back into the darkness of the jungle. "How dreadful," he says. "Relegated to a supporting role." The Viera pats him on the arm in consolation and then there are gone from her sight.

end.


End file.
